Letting Go
by dysprositos
Summary: Post-battle, Thor and Bruce discuss Thor's relationship with Loki. Drabble.


Warnings: none.

Thanks to my beta, irite, for cheering me on as I ventured into writing Thor.

**edited to fix a movie continuity error.**

I do not own The Avengers.

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"He let go," Thor said, arms crossed tightly across his chest, staring at the video feed from the cell that contained his brother. He looked surprised that he had spoken.

He'd been standing in silence, watching Loki for the better part of an hour. The battle was less than half a day behind them, and those twelve hours had been frantic, chaotic, rife with panic and discord. Thor had not been able to make his way to where SHIELD was holding his brother, bound and muzzled, until now—despite his urgent efforts to make haste—but now that he was finally there, he didn't know what to do. Thor stood frozen, unable to move, unsure of where he would go if he could. So he watched, and waited, and watched some more as his brother stood, unmoving—so much like Thor!—at the center of his cell.

Bruce looked up from the computer he was monitoring. For the moment, the two of them were alone; the others had scattered to various corners of the base, but Bruce was still analyzing data from the Tesseract. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Thor cleared his throat and repeated, "He let go."

Bruce raised a quizzical eyebrow. He cast a quick glance at the monitor, which showed Loki standing in exactly the same position he'd been in for the last six hours, at least. "He let go...of what?"

Thor ripped his gaze from the monitor, focusing on the scientist instead. "He said that I threw him into an abyss, but that is not true. He let go."

Of course, Thor had given them the rundown of what had happened between him and his brother the last time they'd seen each other. But he had said that Loki had 'fallen' off the Bifrost, had 'fallen' into an abyss. This was a rather different story, and one that Bruce was keenly interested in. "What do you mean?"

Thor sighed, and seeing such a gesture from the demigod struck Bruce as something of a tragedy, that someone so seemingly full of light and energy could be rendered so weary. "When we battled on the Bifrost, both Loki and I were thrown over the edge. Our father—" he shook his head, starting again, "Our father caught us. In a sense; he caught my leg as we fell. As we dangled above the abyss, I from my father's hand, and Loki from Gungnir, which I held in my own hand, Loki pleaded with our father, tried to justify his actions..."

Bruce could imagine the scenario. Thor, helpless to do anything, unable to extend a hand to his brother without dropping one or both of them into the chasm below. He swallowed, and asked, "What happened?"

"Our father denied him, and Loki let go of the spear. He _let go_, and he dropped into nothingness." Thor looked up, meeting Bruce's eyes. "We thought him dead. And I think...that Loki truly meant that to be his end. For he knew not where that fall might take him." Thor looked again at the monitor, at his brother. At the brother he had not dared dream he would ever see again. With another sigh, Thor stated, "My brother is much changed since then." He paused. "Perhaps he is dead, after all. Perhaps it is time for me to let him go."

And Bruce had little to say to that, had little sympathy for the megalomaniacal demigod who had sought to rule the Earth, but it was clear that Thor was suffering, was perhaps suffering the loss of his brother—whom he had clearly loved, whom he probably _still _loved, even after all of this—for a second time. So he walked out from behind his computer and put a hand on Thor's shoulder. "Maybe not."

"You think there is hope for him?"

Bruce shrugged. "Isn't there always hope? Hope that people who've become monsters can be saved?" This was something that his own 'condition' had instilled in him: to hope, always, even when it seemed empty and futile.

Thor looked down at him briefly, surprised, before turning his attention back to the monitor.

They watched together in silence until the morning.

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Reviews are always welcome. And by 'always welcome' I mean I sob hysterically when I don't get them.


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